


Fresh Start

by theflyingtommo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Feelings, M/M, harry remembers a lot of things, lots of feelings, thnx 4 th mmrs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2781998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflyingtommo/pseuds/theflyingtommo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry deals with his and Louis' relationship one day at a time, just like Louis, but maybe he's a little better at not falling apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fresh Start

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation (kind of) of Rubbed Raw from Harry's perspective.
> 
> * This is purely a work of fiction, and none of this actually happened *  
> ** probably **

Harry is pulled from sleep when he feels a slight pressure on his hips and movement on the bed beside him. He keeps his eyes closed but furrows his brows together and reaches out to wrap Louis back into his arms. He succeeds in keeping him pinned down for another few minutes, but finally Louis presses a soft kiss to his lips and whispers a please into his mouth, to which Harry can never say no. 

Harry knows the routine by now. He's learned not to try and shower with Louis after sex. He's learned not to ask why he can't. He's learned that Louis doesn't even know why he does this, but he just knows he has to. Harry also knows that Louis loves him, and that's why they have to keep this a secret; why they have to be careful. 

Harry didn't know there were people like Louis in the world. He didn't know that someone could be so fun and loud and obnoxious, but also be gentle, caring, and loving. He didn't know that you could have demons hidden on the inside of an angel; he didn't know that you could have such painful darkness inside of a beautiful light like Louis. He deserves to be happy. He deserves to be able to love who ever he wants. Harry let's himself be angry, laying in Louis' bed by himself as Louis showers away the promises they make to each other, the kisses they share, the memories they make. 

He let's himself feel everything he usually pushes down. All of the anger, all of the sadness, but mostly he feels fear. Fear for the unknown future, a future he isn't suppose to spend with Louis, fear of being found out, fear of losing Louis if they were discovered, but mostly Harry fears that the time they spend together doesn't mean the same thing to Louis that is does to him. 

Harry knows that Louis fights with this secret everyday. He sees it in the set of his jaw when Niall laughs at a joke Harry is telling the group and sets a hand lovingly on Harry's knee. He notices his hands wringing together during interviews, wanting to reach out and touch Harry's shoulder or waist, but stopping himself because he thinks that it's the right thing to do. He hears it in his voice, just before he coughs the lump out of his throat, when he has to talk about Harry, or the future of the band. They all know that things are uncertain, but nothing is as uncertain as the battle Harry and Louis fight every minute of every day. 

He sits up, slings his legs off the side of the bed, and sits with his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. Harry thinks of all the times he's told Louis he loves him. He thinks of every pained look that has crossed Louis eyes when he hears those words. He thinks of every tear he's wiped away from Louis' perfect cheek bones. He thinks of every time he's encompassed Louis' small frame and held him while he wept. Harry thinks of the first time Louis told him he loved him back, and he lets a tear slide past his eyes with the memory. Since that day they have told each other they loved the other over a thousand times, but none of them have ever meant as much. None of them were said with such fervor. None of them had the same amount of pain and hope as that first one. The first time was the one that counted, and Harry will never let himself forget the way his heart tightened in his chest, or the way Louis' breath hitched in the back of his throat as Harry surged forward and crashed their lips and bodies together. He will never forget that night. That was the first night they made love. That was the first night it all felt real. 

So Harry holds on to his memories. He figures that those can't be taken away from him, no matter how hard they try, they can't take back what has already happened. He stands up from the bed and stretches his long limbs, noticing a few new bruises around his hips and smiles at the new memories; just one more thing that is theirs and theirs alone. He walks the few steps around the bed to the bathroom. Seeing that the mirror is already fogged up from Louis shower, he scrawls out a few words about making breakfast and then draws about twenty hearts on the mirror around his writing. He steps back quietly and smiles at the mirror, knowing Louis will roll his pretty eyes and smirk at the writing. He steps out of the bathroom and goes to pick up his clothes from the floor. Pulling on his pants he sees that Louis phone is on the side table, blinking a blue light at the top corner. Harry pics up the phone and clicks it on. He sees that Eleanor has texted Louis 5 times since last night and has called him twice. He feels a twinge of pity for her. She's such a nice girl, she really shouldn't have been put in the middle of this. She's been so patient with the fans, and with the other boys, and she's great with Lou, but she's not him. She's not Harry, and only Harry can make Louis happy. 

Harry sets Louis' phone back where it was on the nightstand and gathers the rest of his things. He leaves Louis' room quietly and ducks into his own room, throwing his dirty clothes onto the floor, or bed, or really where ever they fall is good for him, they'll all end up clean at some point. He's lucky they were able to book a suit at this hotel, otherwise sleeping with Louis is a lot harder and sometimes an impossibility. The suit has two bedrooms, and it joins another suit with three more, this way all the boys have their own room, two living areas, and two kitchens. Needless to say, Harry does the cooking. He's just gotten the ingredients out for pancakes when he hears light footsteps coming from the hallway. Louis has a towel wrapped around his waist and a few droplets of water running down his chest. He looks delicious. 

Louis looks happier this morning then he has in the past month. Harry can't quite put his finger on what exactly is different about him, but he seems brighter, like he's ready to face the day instead of hiding from it. Louis doesn't have his phone on him, so maybe he hasn't seen Eleanor’s attempts at contacting him yet, or possibly he just doesn't care right now. He walks over to Harry and spins him so they're chest to chest. Louis has Harry pinned by the hips on the counter and Harry seems a little shocked. Louis doesn't usually act this way in the mornings and especially not outside of the bedroom. 

“I love you.” Louis whispers to him, catching Harry's lips in a chaste kiss. Before Harry can say he loves Louis back they hear voices and footsteps coming from the suit with the other boys. Louis' eyebrows shoot up a little in fear and then settle back into a neutral expression as he lets his hands fall from Harry's hips and pulls away from him altogether. Louis takes a step back towards his room but Harry's arms are all of the sudden around his waist and Harry's chest is pressed flush with his back and Harry whispers into the shell of Louis' ear, “I love you. Always.” Then Harry is gone, and seconds later the boys are bustling around their common area. Louis turns back to Harry and sees a small smile set on his face. They meet each others eyes and Harry's smile widens just enough so one of his glorious dimples is showing. Louis can't help the grin plastered on his face as he ducks his head and goes back into his room to get dressed. 

Harry thinks that maybe today can be the start of something better than they had before. Because that “I love you” felt like everything.


End file.
